Family Secrets Read Online Free Page B

outfit aside in anticipation of the occasion. Calverley did not so much as glance in their direction.
    Master Key cleared his throat and nodded to the magistrate. The procession began its descent into the bowels of the Tower, the close quarters of the stairwell making for an awkward single-file progress. The stately magistrate set a careful pace for those behind. Leventhorpe and John followed next, with Master Key leading Calverley. Jack and Hugh took up the rear to prevent any chance of the prisoner’s escape.              
    Time of day carried no meaning as they moved down into the still depths of the Tower. No one spoke: the only sound was the scuffling of heavy-booted feet. Flickering torches from the wall sconces lit the way, casting long, dancing shadows on the muted grey stones. Leventhorpe had the sensation of being buried in the earth as they moved ever deeper. He kept his eyes lowered, mindful of the uneven stairs, eroded by countless footsteps over several lifetimes. Suddenly, a rush of iridescent green-and-black beetles scattered out of the men’s path. Leventhorpe felt a brief flash of delight to see something so lively-- these animated jewels-- existing in such a bleak place.      
    At the foot of the tightly coiled stone staircase lay a narrow, low-ceilinged passageway.             Leventhorpe glanced along a seemingly endless succession of closed doors and gaping antechambers. Today’s method of execution-- ‘peine forte et dure,’ less elegantly known as ‘pressing’ -- could take several hours. His throat constricted. Already he found the dank air putrid and hard to breathe. The clammy walls, coated with an orange mildew, gave off a pungent odour. Here and there between the cracks in the stones grew a strangely pretty fungus with pale yellow flowers. Leventhorpe touched a curious finger to a cluster of the petals as he passed by. They disintegrated instantly and left a lurid smear on his fine lace cuff.
    Lord, I pray this ends quickly--      
    At last, the magistrate came to a halt and peered around to catch the eye of Master Key. Jack and Hugh stepped ahead to replace their Master’s hold on the prisoner. Hugh’s hand clearly shook as he tried to get a firm grip on Calverley’s arm, but he was met with no resistance: Calverley kept his manacled hands clasped before him in the manner of a clergyman and focused his dark eyes into the shadows at the far end of the passageway. Leventhorpe was again struck by the man’s poise. Of those present, he seemed the least moved by what was about to take place.            
    Fumbling at his belt for an oversized key, the old Master slipped to the front of the group to unlock the low, windowless portal. He heaved his stooped shoulder against the recalcitrant door and swung it inwards. The magistrate ducked his head as he entered the chamber, followed by the others. As Key lit the torches in the iron wall sconces, Leventhorpe blinked and looked about the room. A wide plank of coarsely hewn oak leaned against one wall. Beside it was a heap of stones, each roughly the same size-- twelve to fourteen pounds in weight.   Four iron rings were set into the flagstones in the centre of the floor. The room was otherwise barren. Once the condemned man was safely inside, the door was shut and bolted. Leventhorpe felt trapped.        
    “Make him ready,” said the magistrate.   
    As placidly as a docile horse, Calverley allowed himself to be taken by his chains and roughly stripped by Jack. The assistant gleefully assessed the clothing as he folded each item. Handing the garments over to Hugh, he winked at the boy’s dumbfounded expression.
                “For safe-keepin’, lad. A boon for me. They’re about my size-- and he won’t be needin’ ’em in Hell now, will he?”            
    Leventhorpe was shocked by the outrageous theft but no one else seemed fazed. It must be routine in such